Sir Philip Sidney (30 November, October, 1586) Excerpts from Astrophil and Stella

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1 Sir Philip Sidney (30 November, October, 1586) Excerpts from Astrophil and Stella I LOVING in truth, and faine in verse my love to show, 1 That the deare She might take some pleasure of my paine: Pleasure might cause her reade, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pitie winne, and pitie grace obtaine, I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe, 5 Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertaine: Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow Some fresh and fruitfull showers upon my sunne-burn'd braine. But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay, Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Studie's blowes, 10 And others' feete still seem'd but strangers in my way. Thus great with child to speake, and helplesse in my throwes, Biting my trewand pen, beating my selfe for spite, 'Foole,' said my Muse to me, 'looke in thy heart and write.' 14 II NOT at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot 1 Love gave the wound, which while I breathe will bleed: But knowne worth did in mine of time proceed, Till by degrees it had full conquest got. I saw and liked, I liked but loved not, 5 I loved, but straight did not what Love decreed: At length to Love's decrees, I forc'd, agreed, Yet with repining at so partiall lot. Now even that footstep of lost libertie Is gone, and now like slave-borne Muscovite, 10 I call it praise to suffer Tyrannie; And now employ the remnant of my wit, To make my selfe beleeve, that all is well, While with a feeling skill I paint my hell. 14 1

2 III LET daintie wits crie on the Sisters nine, 1 That bravely maskt, their fancies may be told: Or Pindare's Apes, flaunt they in phrases fine, Enam'ling with pied flowers their thoughts of gold: Or else let them in statelier glorie shine, 5 Ennobling new found Tropes with problemes old: Or with strange similies enrich each line, Of herbes or beastes, which Inde or Afrike hold. For me in sooth, no Muse but one I know: Phrases and Problemes from my reach do grow, 10 And strange things cost too deare for my poore sprites. How then? even thus: in Stella's face I reed, What Love and Beautie be, then all my deed But Copying is, what in her Nature writes. 14 IV VERTUE alas, now let me take some rest, 1 Thou setst a bate betweene my will and wit, If vaine love have my simple soule opprest, Leave what thou likest not, deale not thou with it. Thy scepter use in some old Catoe's brest; 5 Churches or schooles are for thy seate more fit: I do confesse, pardon a fault confest, My mouth too tender is for thy hard bit. But if that needs thou wilt usurping be, The litle reason that is left in me, 10 And still th'effect of thy perswasions prove: I sweare, my heart such one shall shew to thee, That shrines in flesh so true a Deitie, That Vertue, thou thy selfe shalt be in love. 14 2

3 V IT is most true, that eyes are form'd to serve 1 The inward light: and that the heavenly part Ought to be king, from whose rules who do swerve, Rebels to Nature, strive for their owne smart. It is most true, what we call Cupid's dart, 5 An image is, which for our selves we carve; And, fooles, adore in temple of our hart, Till that good God make Church and Churchman starve. True, that true Beautie Vertue is indeed, Whereof this Beautie can be but a shade, 10 Which elements with mortall mixture breed: True, that on earth we are but pilgrims made, And should in soule up to our countrey move: True, and yet true that I must Stella love. 14 VI SOME Lovers speake when they their Muses entertaine, 1 Of hopes begot by feare, of wot not what desires: Of force of heav'nly beames, infusing hellish paine: Of living deaths, deare wounds, faire stormes and freesing fires: Some one his song in Jove, and Jove's strange tales attires, 5 Broadred with buls and swans, powdred with golden raine: Another humbler wit to shepheard's pipe retires, Yet hiding royall bloud full oft in rurall vaine. To some a sweetest plaint, a sweetest stile affords, While teares powre out his inke, and sighs breathe out his words: 10 His paper, pale dispaire, and paine his pen doth move. I can speake what I feele, and feele as much as they, But thinke that all the Map of my state I display, When trembling voice brings forth that I do Stella love. 14 3

4 VII WHEN Nature made her chiefe worke, Stella's eyes, 1 In colour blacke, why wrapt she beames so bright? Would she in beamie blacke, like painter wise, Frame daintiest lustre, mixt of shades and light? Or did she else that sober hue devise, 5 In object best to knit and strength our sight, Least if no vaile those brave gleames did disguise, They sun-like should more dazle then delight? Or would she her miraculous power show, That whereas blacke seemes Beautie's contrary, 10 She even in blacke doth make all beauties flow? Both so and thus, she minding Love should be Placed ever there, gave him this mourning weed, To honor all their deaths, who for her bleed. 14 VIII LOVE borne in Greece, of late fled from his native place, 1 Forc'd by a tedious proofe, that Turkish hardned hart, Is no fit marke to pierce with his fine pointed dart: And pleasd with our soft peace, staid here his flying race. But finding these North clymes do coldly him embrace, 5 Not usde to frozen clips, he strave to find some part, Where with most ease and warmth he might employ his art: At length he perch'd himself in Stella's joyfull face, Whose faire skin, beamy eyes, like morning sun on snow, Deceiv'd the quaking boy, who thought from so pure light, 10 Effects of lively heat, must needs in nature grow. But she most faire, most cold, made him thence take his flight To my close heart, where while some firebrands he did lay, He burnt unwares his wings, and cannot fly away. 14 4

5 IX QUEENE Vertue's court, which some call Stella's face, 1 Prepar'd by Nature's chiefest furniture, Hath his front built of Alablaster pure; Gold is the covering of that stately place. The doore by which sometimes comes forth her Grace, 5 Red Porphir is, which locke of pearle makes sure: Whose porches rich (which name of cheekes endure) Marble mixt red and white do enterlace. The windowes now through which this heav'nly guest Looks over the world, and can find nothing such, 10 Which dare claime from those lights the name of best, Of touch they are that without touch doth touch, Which Cupid's selfe from Beautie's myne did draw: Of touch they are, and poore I am their straw. 14 X REASON, in faith thou art well serv'd, that still 1 Wouldst brabling be with sence and love in me: I rather wisht thee clime the Muses' hill, Or reach the fruite of Nature's choisest tree, Or seeke heavn's course, or heavn's inside to see: 5 Why shouldst thou toyle our thornie soile to till? Leave sense, and those which sense's objects be: Deale thou with powers of thoughts, leave love to will. But thou wouldst needs fight both with love and sence, With sword of wit, giving wounds of dispraise, 10 Till downe-right blowes did foyle thy cunning fence: For soone as they strake thee with Stella's rayes, Reason thou kneel'dst, and offeredst straight to prove By reason good, good reason her to love. 14 5